Ive come to confess something to you, Mr. Harrison, she said resolutely. Its its about that Jersey cow.
Bless my soul, exclaimed Mr. Harrison nervously, has she gone and broken into my oats again? Well, never mind never mind if she has. Its no difference none at all, I I was too hasty yesterday, thats a fact. Never mind if she has.
Oh, if it were only that, sighed Anne. But its ten times worse. I dont
Bless my soul, do you mean to say shes got into my wheat?
No no not the wheat. But
Then its the cabbages! Shes broken into my cabbages that I was raising for Exhibition, hey?
Its not the cabbages, Mr. Harrison. Ill tell you everything that is what I came for-but please dont interrupt me. It makes me so nervous. Just let me tell my story and dont say anything till I get through-and then no doubt youll say plenty, Anne concluded, but in thought only.
I wont say another word, said Mr. Harrison, and he didnt. But Ginger was not bound by any contract of silence and kept ejaculating, Redheaded snippet at intervals until Anne felt quite wild.
I shut my Jersey cow up in our pen yesterday. This morning I went to Carmody and when I came back I saw a Jersey cow in your oats. Diana and I chased her out and you cant imagine what a hard time we had. I was so dreadfully wet and tired and vexed-and Mr. Shearer came by that very minute and offered to buy the cow. I sold her to him on the spot for twenty dollars. It was wrong of me. I should have waited and consulted Marilla, of course. But Im dreadfully given to doing things without thinking-everybody who knows me will tell you that. Mr. Shearer took the cow right away to ship her on the afternoon train.
Redheaded snippet, quoted Ginger in a tone of profound contempt.
At this point Mr. Harrison arose and, with an expression that would have struck terror into any bird but a parrot, carried Gingers cage into an adjoining room and shut the door. Ginger shrieked, swore, and otherwise conducted himself in keeping with his reputation, but finding himself left alone, relapsed into sulky silence.
Excuse me and go on, said Mr. Harrison, sitting down again. My brother the sailor never taught that bird any manners.
I went home and after tea I went out to the milking pen. Mr. Harrison, Anne leaned forward, clasping her hands with her old childish gesture, while her big gray eyes gazed imploringly into Mr. Harrisons embarrassed face I found my cow still shut up in the pen. It was your cow I had sold to Mr. Shearer.
Bless my soul, exclaimed Mr. Harrison, in blank amazement at this unlooked-for conclusion. What a very extraordinary thing!
Oh, it isnt in the least extraordinary that I should be getting myself and other people into scrapes, said Anne mournfully. Im noted for that. You might suppose Id have grown out of it by this time Ill be seventeen next March but it seems that I havent. Mr. Harrison, is it too much to hope that youll forgive me? Im afraid its too late to get your cow back, but here is the money for her or you can have mine in exchange if youd rather. Shes a very good cow. And I cant express how sorry I am for it all.
Tut, tut, said Mr. Harrison briskly, dont say another word about it, miss. Its of no consequence no consequence whatever. Accidents will happen. Im too hasty myself sometimes, miss far too hasty. But I cant help speaking out just what I think and folks must take me as they find me. If that cow had been in my cabbages now but never mind, she wasnt, so its all right. I think Id rather have your cow in exchange, since you want to be rid of her.
Oh, thank you, Mr. Harrison. Im so glad you are not vexed. I was afraid you would be.
And I suppose you were scared to death to come here and tell me, after the fuss I made yesterday, hey? But you mustnt mind me, Im a terrible outspoken old fellow, thats all awful apt to tell the truth, no matter if it is a bit plain.
So is Mrs. Lynde, said Anne, before she could prevent herself.
Who? Mrs. Lynde? Dont you tell me Im like that old gossip, said Mr. Harrison irritably. Im not not a bit. What have you got in that box?
A cake, said Anne archly. In her relief at Mr. Harrisons unexpected amiability her spirits soared upward feather-light. I brought it over for you I thought perhaps you didnt have cake very often.
I dont, thats a fact, and Im mighty fond of it, too. Im much obliged to you. It looks good on top. I hope its good all the way through.
It is, said Anne, gaily confident. I have made cakes in my time that were not, as Mrs. Allan could tell you, but this one is all right. I made it for the Improvement Society, but I can make another for them.
Well, Ill tell you what, miss, you must help me eat it. Ill put the kettle on and well have a cup of tea. How will that do?
Will you let me make the tea? said Anne dubiously.
Mr. Harrison chuckled.
I see you havent much confidence in my ability to make tea. Youre wrong I can brew up as good a jorum of tea as you ever drank. But go ahead yourself. Fortunately it rained last Sunday, so theres plenty of clean dishes.
Anne hopped briskly up and went to work. She washed the teapot in several waters before she put the tea to steep. Then she swept the stove and set the table, bringing the dishes out of the pantry. The state of that pantry horrified Anne, but she wisely said nothing. Mr. Harrison told her where to find the bread and butter and a can of peaches. Anne adorned the table with a bouquet from the garden and shut her eyes to the stains on the tablecloth. Soon the tea was ready and Anne found herself sitting opposite Mr. Harrison at his own table, pouring his tea for him, and chatting freely to him about her school and friends and plans. She could hardly believe the evidence of her senses.
Mr. Harrison had brought Ginger back, averring that the poor bird would be lonesome; and Anne, feeling that she could forgive everybody and everything, offered him a walnut. But Gingers feelings had been grievously hurt and he rejected all overtures of friendship. He sat moodily on his perch and ruffled his feathers up until he looked like a mere ball of green and gold.
Why do you call him Ginger? asked Anne, who liked appropriate names and thought Ginger accorded not at all with such gorgeous plumage.
My brother the sailor named him. Maybe it had some reference to his temper. I think a lot of that bird though youd be surprised if you knew how much. He has his faults of course. That bird has cost me a good deal one way and another. Some people object to his swearing habits but he cant be broken of them. Ive tried other people have tried. Some folks have prejudices against parrots. Silly, aint it? I like them myself. Gingers a lot of company to me. Nothing would induce me to give that bird up nothing in the world, miss.
Mr. Harrison flung the last sentence at Anne as explosively as if he suspected her of some latent design of persuading him to give Ginger up. Anne, however, was beginning to like the queer, fussy, fidgety little man, and before the meal was over they were quite good friends. Mr. Harrison found out about the Improvement Society and was disposed to approve of it.
Thats right. Go ahead. Theres lots of room for improvement in this settlement and in the people too.
Oh, I dont know, flashed Anne. To herself, or to her particular cronies, she might admit that there were some small imperfections, easily removable, in Avonlea and its inhabitants. But to hear a practical outsider like Mr. Harrison saying it was an entirely different thing. I think Avonlea is a lovely place; and the people in it are very nice, too.
I guess youve got a spice of temper, commented Mr. Harrison, surveying the flushed cheeks and indignant eyes opposite him. It goes with hair like yours, I reckon. Avonlea is a pretty decent place or I wouldnt have located here; but I suppose even you will admit that it has some faults?
I like it all the better for them, said loyal Anne. I dont like places or people either that havent any faults. I think a truly perfect person would be very uninteresting. Mrs. Milton White says she never met a perfect person, but shes heard enough about one her husbands first wife. Dont you think it must be very uncomfortable to be married to a man whose first wife was perfect?
It would be more uncomfortable to be married to the perfect wife, declared Mr. Harrison, with a sudden and inexplicable warmth.
When tea was over Anne insisted on washing the dishes, although Mr. Harrison assured her that there were enough in the house to do for weeks yet. She would dearly have loved to sweep the floor also, but no broom was visible and she did not like to ask where it was for fear there wasnt one at all.
You might run across and talk to me once in a while, suggested Mr. Harrison when she was leaving. Tisnt far and folks ought to be neighborly. Im kind of interested in that society of yours. Seems to me therell be some fun in it. Who are you going to tackle first?
We are not going to meddle with people it is only places we mean to improve, said Anne, in a dignified tone. She rather suspected that Mr. Harrison was making fun of the project.
When she had gone Mr. Harrison watched her from the window a lithe, girlish shape, tripping lightheartedly across the fields in the sunset afterglow.
Im a crusty, lonesome, crabbed old chap, he said aloud, but theres something about that little girl makes me feel young again and its such a pleasant sensation Id like to have it repeated once in a while.
Redheaded snippet, croaked Ginger mockingly.
Mr. Harrison shook his fist at the parrot.
You ornery bird, he muttered, I almost wish Id wrung your neck when my brother the sailor brought you home. Will you never be done getting me into trouble?
Anne ran home blithely and recounted her adventures to Marilla, who had been not a little alarmed by her long absence and was on the point of starting out to look for her.
Its a pretty good world, after all, isnt it, Marilla? concluded Anne happily. Mrs. Lynde was complaining the other day that it wasnt much of a world. She said whenever you looked forward to anything pleasant you were sure to be more or less disappointed perhaps that is true. But there is a good side to it too. The bad things dont always come up to your expectations either they nearly always turn out ever so much better than you think. I looked forward to a dreadfully unpleasant experience when I went over to Mr. Harrisons tonight; and instead he was quite kind and I had almost a nice time. I think were going to be real good friends if we make plenty of allowances for each other, and everything has turned out for the best. But all the same, Marilla, I shall certainly never again sell a cow before making sure to whom she belongs. And I do not like parrots!
Chapter IV
Different Opinions
One evening at sunset, Jane Andrews, Gilbert Blythe, and Anne Shirley were lingering by a fence in the shadow of gently swaying spruce boughs, where a wood cut known as the Birch Path joined the main road. Jane had been up to spend the afternoon with Anne, who walked part of the way home with her; at the fence they met Gilbert, and all three were now talking about the fateful morrow; for that morrow was the first of September and the schools would open. Jane would go to Newbridge and Gilbert to White Sands.
You both have the advantage of me, sighed Anne. Youre going to teach children who dont know you, but I have to teach my own old schoolmates, and Mrs. Lynde says shes afraid they wont respect me as they would a stranger unless Im very cross from the first. But I dont believe a teacher should be cross. Oh, it seems to me such a responsibility!
I guess well get on all right, said Jane comfortably. Jane was not troubled by any aspirations to be an influence for good. She meant to earn her salary fairly, please the trustees, and get her name on the School Inspectors roll of honor. Further ambitions Jane had none. The main thing will be to keep order and a teacher has to be a little cross to do that. If my pupils wont do as I tell them I shall punish them.
How?
Give them a good whipping, of course.
Oh, Jane, you wouldnt, cried Anne, shocked. Jane, you couldnt!
Indeed, I could and would, if they deserved it, said Jane decidedly.
I could never whip a child, said Anne with equal decision. I dont believe in it at all. Miss Stacy never whipped any of us and she had perfect order; and Mr. Phillips was always whipping and he had no order at all. No, if I cant get along without whipping I shall not try to teach school. There are better ways of managing. I shall try to win my pupils affections and then they will want to do what I tell them.
But suppose they dont? said practical Jane.
I wouldnt whip them anyhow. Im sure it wouldnt do any good. Oh, dont whip your pupils, Jane dear, no matter what they do.
What do you think about it, Gilbert? demanded Jane. Dont you think there are some children who really need a whipping now and then?
Dont you think its a cruel, barbarous thing to whip a child any child? exclaimed Anne, her face flushing with earnestness.
Well, said Gilbert slowly, torn between his real convictions and his wish to measure up to Annes ideal, theres something to be said on both sides. I dont believe in whipping children much. I think, as you say, Anne, that there are better ways of managing as a rule, and that corporal punishment should be a last resort. But on the other hand, as Jane says, I believe there is an occasional child who cant be influenced in any other way and who, in short, needs a whipping and would be improved by it. Corporal punishment as a last resort is to be my rule.
Gilbert, having tried to please both sides, succeeded, as is usual and eminently right, in pleasing neither. Jane tossed her head.
Ill whip my pupils when theyre naughty. Its the shortest and easiest way of convincing them.
Anne gave Gilbert a disappointed glance.
I shall never whip a child, she repeated firmly. I feel sure it isnt either right or necessary.
Suppose a boy sauced you back when you told him to do something? said Jane.
Id keep him in after school and talk kindly and firmly to him, said Anne. There is some good in every person if you can find it. It is a teachers duty to find and develop it. That is what our School Management professor at Queens told us, you know. Do you suppose you could find any good in a child by whipping him? Its far more important to influence the children aright than it is even to teach them the three Rs, Professor Rennie says.
But the Inspector examines them in the three Rs, mind you, and he wont give you a good report if they dont come up to his standard, protested Jane.
Id rather have my pupils love me and look back to me in after years as a real helper than be on the roll of honor, asserted Anne decidedly.
Wouldnt you punish children at all, when they misbehaved? asked Gilbert.
Oh, yes, I suppose I shall have to, although I know Ill hate to do it. But you can keep them in at recess or stand them on the floor or give them lines to write.
I suppose you wont punish the girls by making them sit with the boys? said Jane slyly.
Gilbert and Anne looked at each other and smiled rather foolishly. Once upon a time, Anne had been made to sit with Gilbert for punishment and sad and bitter had been the consequences thereof.
Well, time will tell which is the best way, said Jane philosophically as they parted.
Anne went back to Green Gables by way of Birch Path, shadowy, rustling, fern-scented, through Violet Vale and past Willowmere, where dark and light kissed each other under the firs, and down through Lovers Lane spots she and Diana had so named long ago. She walked slowly, enjoying the sweetness of wood and field and the starry summer twilight, and thinking soberly about the new duties she was to take up on the morrow. When she reached the yard at Green Gables Mrs. Lyndes loud, decided tones floated out through the open kitchen window.